


087 Reasons Not to Listen to Wade

by ArraFrost



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Horror, M/M, SCP-087
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:39:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArraFrost/pseuds/ArraFrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wade convinces Peter that going down the dark, creepy flight of stairs is the perfect event for their evening, while Peter respectfully wants to get out of there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	087 Reasons Not to Listen to Wade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Atsvie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atsvie/gifts).



> For Rachel because I know how much she just ADORES horror stories and how much she LOVES anything to do with horror. So I wrote her some Horror based Spideypool because she's probably going to cling to me out of LOVE and not fear <3

“Wade I am not going down there.” Peter stared down the pitch black staircase. The tiny light barely reflecting off the walls, almost as if the damn things were absorbing it. It didn't look safe in the slightest.

“Oh come on Pete. Don't be afraid of a little stairwell. Just because you can't see what's down there doesn't mean there's something down there.”

Peter turned to glare at his friend. True he was being logical, for once, but that didn't make the void he was staring into any less discomforting. “Oh that's helpful.”

“Now go on, take a few steps, it'll be fine.”

Sighing rather loudly, and taking a moment to reflect on how many brain cells obviously evaporated when in Deadpool's presence, Peter did as instructed. The footsteps were loud in the empty, dark stairwell and they were the only thing Peter could hear until he descended to the fourth level.

“Is that dripping? Do you hear the dripping.”

“It's only pipes leaking or something.” Wade nudged Peter's arm, clearly getting a kick out of this situation where Peter was having varying degrees of exciting and fun anxiety attacks.

Leveling his breathing, Peter convinced himself that Wade was telling him the truth. That the dripping was perfectly normal. This place was old and in disrepair. Probably violated so many regulations and the damn thing would be flooded by the time they got to the bottom. A smirk fell onto his lips at the thought of it. If only he could push Wade into a cold pool of accumulated water by the end of this. It made his nerves settle quite well until he reached the tenth level at least.

“Fucking shit fuck what the hell was that!” The young hero jumped out of his skin, freezing in place, eyes wide with terror.

“What are you talking about?” Wade turned to him, grin permanent from how amused he was at Peter's condition but his eyes were legitimately confused.

“There was a fucking shadow! Almost like hands in front of my face!”

“Now you're being silly. Ghosts Peter? In a stairwell? Even I'm not that crazy.”

Even though Peter desperately wanted to argue that point, he decided to save his breath in order to fill his lungs again and calm his racing heart.

“Let's get a move on then, can't be stuck on this level all night.”

“I hate you.” He growled, but moved forward down the steps all the same. He was having serious doubts about this, but if he didn't keep going Wade would be on his back about it for the rest of his life and Peter wasn't having any of that.

They proceeded down the next five or six flights in silence, other than the constant dripping that didn't sound like it was getting any closer or farther away and the footsteps reverberating off the walls.

“Do you hear that?” Peter asked, craning his neck to hear better even though he knew it wouldn't help. If the water drops were the same volume as they'd always been, something must have been wrong. “Sounds like breathing.”

“We need to get your head examined don't we? Hearing voices is my canon not yours!”

“Shut up!” He didn't want to hear Wade's gibberish right now because that was definitely heavy breathing, probably male, and it couldn't be more than a few flights away from them. He was sure of it. “I don't want to go down any further.”

“Oh we're almost down to level eighteen. Don't wimp out now.”

“It's fucking creepy, Wade. I don't like it.”

“What's the worst that could happen?” Peter stared back at Wade as he judged him with an arched eyebrow.

“If something jumps out I'm going to shoot you in the leg with your own gun.”

“Only if you do it politely.”

“Okay Captain Tight Pants.”

“Whatever big damn hero.”

Somehow, the devolved banter of quoting one of their favorite television series made the descent much easier. The atmosphere was lighter and Peter wasn't constantly terrified to turn the corner and be faced with unspeakable horrors. He even managed to ignore the few shadowy fingers he could have sworn entered his vision, trying to grasp him as he walked by, and barely flinched as he offered Wade a clever retort about pretty floral bonnets.

It wasn't until level twenty-five that Peter paused again and Wade sighed when the boy didn't respond to his friendly insult. “What is it now?”

“Footsteps.”

“Yes, we've heard them since the beginning.”

“I've stopped moving... and I can still hear them.”

Wade shut his mouth than and a clang resembling heavy footsteps, possibly being made by steel toed boots filled the air, and they sounded like they were climbing the stairs and getting progressively closer. Breathing was one thing, it could be air breezing in from somewhere, but footsteps were definite and Peter did  _not_  want to meet the source of them.

“Let's go back up.”

“What for? There's nothing up there. Down is so much more interesting.”

“Oh god, oh god we're all gonna die?”

“No, the other definition of interesting.”

This is a bad idea, Peter. Wade is an idiot, Peter. You don't have to do this so why are you listening to him, Peter. God damnit, Peter, you're moving forward again. Something about that bloody mercenary made him do things he didn't want to do, ever, and this wasn't even for a good reason either. It was for entertainment. Simple amusement. Nothing bad was going to happen except the footsteps were getting louder and louder until they drowned out the sound of his own footsteps and the water droplets and the breathing and Peter tensed up preparing for the worst as he descended down to the next level when they suddenly stopped. Complete silence before the other noises faded back into existence.

“Neat.” Wade offered as a friendly critic of the disturbingly terrifying event.

“Fucking hell...” Peter breathed heavily, eyes fixed ahead. He was going to kill Wade if he ever survived the pending heart attack he was surely going to have because for some stupid reason, instead of arguing once again to turn around, Peter continued down the steps.

The footsteps came and went, quieter this time, as though they were taunting him. His psyche was not enjoying the shadows that had taken more shape, still only hands and arms reaching out for him but enough to know for sure that it wasn't a trick of the light – which, in case Wade hadn't noticed, had grown dimmer over the past few flights of stairs. The walls were absorbing the light, shadows were trying to grope him, and someone was tap dancing below them. An evening with Wade was eventful, no doubt about that.

Getting onto another landing, he took in the numbers painted on the wall. Level thirty-one. This was getting ridiculous, how much lower could they go? Rolling his eyes, he walked down the steps to the landing between floor and set his gaze down the next flight of stairs that would lead to the thirty-two landing.

“What is that?”

“What is what?” Wade asked, taking in the frozen form of his companion. Peter's voice was tense, his eyes weren't moving, and his entire body was stiff.

“That. Right there. Right down there. It's fucking looking at me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don't tell me you don't see that!” Peter pointed directly at it. Directly at the... thing... the face... the eyes that were staring at him from down below on the next landing. “Fuck this shit. I am  _not_ going down there. No way. Not happening. You can find yourself someone else to torture. Maybe Bob will take you back because I'm not doing this anymore. That can go to hell where it belongs.”

“Peter what are you saying? I can't see anything.”

Peter took a step forward, the face becoming more visible the closer he got. “That. You don't see  _that?_ ”

Wade's eyebrow arched as he took in Peter's horrified expression before squinting. “It looks like a glare off the wall. Trick of the light, man.”

“What light?” Peter gaped at him. Unless Wade was magically producing light out of his eyes, there was no light shining down there that Peter could see.

“Just go down and you'll see it's nothing. Run right at it and it'll disappear.”

Peter gave Wade an incredulous look. He couldn't be serious. That was a face. A fucking face at the bottom of the stairs and Wade wanted him to run in it's direction. Oh yes mister ghost face, welcome me with open arms – fuck it. Gathering up his courage, Peter pushed on ahead. More of the face becoming clearer as he got closer and soon there were white, nearly translucent shoulders accompanying and the body. Long, lanky fingers that didn't seem to have any bones in them stretched out towards him and everything went black.

“What the  _fuck_ was that!” Peter screamed, throwing the mouse down on the desk as the computer game shut down of it's own accord, as though his character had fainted from pure shock and terror that Peter was equally experiencing.

Wade laughed loudly, sitting back in his chair next to Peter with a satisfied grin. "Have fun?”

“No!” Peter yelled, resisting his intense urge to kick Wade's chair out from under his smug ass.

“Wait until we play Containment Breach.”

Peter blinked at his friend, eyes wide and breath ragged with terror. “To hell with that. I'm going home.” He made to get up and climb out the window to swing back to his apartment only he was greeted with darkness. It was night time, the streets were dark and he had half the city to cover before he could get back to his apartment safely. “Um... can I stay the night?”

Wade's smirk spread wide across his face. “I guess if the poor little spidey needs someone to snuggle tonight than you can share my bed.”

Peter sighed, but didn't argue with the merc because, judging from his racing heartbeat, he was definitely going to end up clinging to Wade in his sleep. Never was he going to agree to anything Wade said that involved the word “horror” again.

**Author's Note:**

> NOT MY GIF. The video game called SCP-087 based on an article of the same name from the SCP Foundation.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://arrafrost.tumblr.com/)


End file.
